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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633146">99 Bottles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20'>mariadperiad20</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Foray into B99 [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Roger Peralta's A+ Parenting, Whump, holt &amp; kevin are dad material</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:00:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633146</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake shows up injured to Holt's house. Kevin gets the first aid kit.</p><p>Request fic!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Foray into B99 [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>kagsivity's fic archive</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jake rang the doorbell, and instantly regretted it.</p><p>There was no way he could explain this.</p><p>He began to step back, away from the door. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten here, and his brain was running overtime trying to figure out how to get home. Even though he couldn’t go home.</p><p>Not right now.</p><p>Jake would figure it out. He could fix it-</p><p>The door was opening.</p><p>Fuck, fuck, <i>fuck</i>. Jake swiveled around, facing away from the door and jamming his bloody hands into his jacket pockets.</p><p>“Peralta?” Holt’s voice said from behind him, perfectly articulated as if he hadn’t just been woken up at 1am.</p><p>Jake plastered on a grin, even as he knew Holt wouldn’t be able to see it.</p><p>“Heyyyy, Captain! Just drunk as hell.” Jake said brightly, lying with the first thing that came to his mind. “Sorry to bother you. I’ll be leaving now.”</p><p>“Your voice lacks its usual cadence when intoxicated.” Holt responded, voice sounding closer than before. Jake could hear him begin to step towards him, under the well-lit porchlight.</p><p>“Well, I am, so… I’ll be going. Now.” Jake began to walk away from the door, praying that Holt would just let him leave, when a hand came down on his shoulder.</p><p>Jake flinched, half-turning as his hands came up defensively, ripping the hand off of him.</p><p>“Don’t-!” Jake snarled.</p><p>Holt was standing in front of him, eyebrows slightly raised. His hand had been withdrawn to his side, and he was now looking at Jake with something akin to concern.</p><p>“Jacob, what has happened?”</p><p>Jake took a half-step back, dropping his hands and running one through his hair. He couldn’t hide the wince as his fingers glanced off of one of the cuts present there.</p><p>“Nothing. Sorry to bother- I’ll-” Jake pointed with his thumb in the direction he came from - or, well, thought he came from - and plastered on another smile. He had dropped his previous one when Holt had touched him.</p><p>“Jacob, come inside.” Holt said, stepping aside. Jake glanced into the interior of the home, then at Holt, and then glanced back at the desolate road behind him. He didn’t even have his car - how had he gotten here?</p><p>Jake looked down at his feet.</p><p>He was wearing both of his shoes, at least. But they both had some blood splatters on the toes of them. Huh. He was pretty sure the blood was his.</p><p>“Jacob, please. Come inside.” Holt repeated.</p><p>Jake blinked, before obligingly walking past Holt into the house. As polite as Holt was being, it was no question in Jake’s mind that, if he tried to just walk off, Holt would probably call the squad on him. Or just chase him down himself.</p><p>Jake shouldn’t have come here.</p><p>Why had he come here? He had only meant to go someplace safe, and it seemed his feet had led him here.</p><p>Jake heard Holt close the door behind them.</p><p>Holt directed him to a kitchen table, before leaving and going up the flight of stairs to the rest of his home.</p><p>Jake slumped down into a chair, resting his hands onto the table, about to run his hands through his hair again. He aborted the movement quickly, as he remembered the pain from before, and instead shoved them into his pockets.</p><p>His phone was in one, and he pulled it out. There were a few streaks of blood on it - probably from his hands - and Jake opened it, turning on the camera mode.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Well, no wonder Holt was worried.</p><p>Jake’s face was a bloody mess, bruises rapidly forming across it. Despite the amount of blood, it seemed he only had a few cuts, and Jake prodded at one gingerly before jerking his hand back at the shock of pain.</p><p>Jake shoved his phone back into his pocket hastily as he heard Holt reapproaching, along with another pair of footsteps.</p><p>“I fail to see why you require my knowledge, Raymond, but not my expertise.”</p><p>“My apologies, Kevin. I did not intend to negate your capabilities. I merely find myself at a loss for words.”</p><p>“Raymond-” Kevin’s voice sounded sympathetic, and Jake swallowed hard, trying to scramble to a more upright position.</p><p>Him stumbling up to Holt’s house was a far cry from stumbling into <i>Kevin’s</i> home, and Jake found himself regretting coming here all the more.</p><p>Kevin could already barely stand him.</p><p>The pair rounded the corner to see Jake standing up to the best of his ability, pretending to not be leaning as heavily on the table as he actually was.</p><p>“Kev! Good to see you.” Jake said, eyes flicking between Holt’s impassive gaze and Kevin’s mildly appalled one.</p><p>“Peralta.” Kevin acknowledged, before turning to Holt, giving him a look.</p><p>Holt saw it, acknowledged it, and then walked up to Jake, placing a first aid kit onto the table.</p><p>Kevin grimaced as Holt made to open it, placing his hand down to snap the lid shut.</p><p>Jake pretended they hadn’t seen him twitch back at the sound.</p><p>“Raymond, he needs a hospital, not a few bandages.” Kevin said sharply, maintaining eye contact with Holt.</p><p>“No, I’m fine. Seriously.” Jake said, “I shouldn’t have come here.”</p><p>“No, you shouldn’t have.” Kevin retorted, breaking his staring match with Holt to cast a glare - albeit not very heartfelt - at Jake. “You <i>should</i> have gone directly to a hospital.”</p><p>“I didn’t know what to do.” Jake said brokenly, posture slumping more and more as he kept trying to keep himself upright.</p><p>Kevin’s voice softened. “Well, now you do. So we will drive you to the hospital, and they’ll take care of you. Right, Raymond?”</p><p>Holt allowed a rare frown to cross his face. “I highly doubt he’d allow some strangers to make physical contact with him.”</p><p>Kevin’s face twitched, the pair exchanging a look before he turned back to Jake.</p><p>“Sit down, Peralta, before you fall down.” His tone was kind, even as his words were strict.</p><p>Jake sat down heavily into the chair, closing his eyes against the aching in his face and head, but not before seeing Holt give a brief nod to Kevin.</p><p>The sound of the first aid kit being opened made Jake lift his head, prying his eyes open to watch as Kevin pulled out some supplies, sitting down in the cair next to Jake and turning in it to face him.</p><p>Holt had taken to a hovering position, not exactly overbearing, but only a few steps away to be within arms reach of Jake.</p><p>Jake’s gaze snapped back to Kevin as the man opened a package of strongly smelling alcohol wipes.</p><p>“I’m fine.” Jake said, making to stand up once more.</p><p>Holt took a step forward, ready to intervene, but Kevin just looked Jake in the eye and said, calmly, “Everything is fine, Peralta. I’m just going to clean up some of this blood, alright? You can let me know when you’re ready.”</p><p>Jake gritted his teeth, debating his severely dwindled options. He was already here. They already saw. Holt wasn’t exactly keen on letting an injured cop leave his house… and Kevin still hadn’t attempted to touch Jake. Waiting permission.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” Jake said finally, fingers beginning to tap on the table as Kevin obligingly brought up the damp cloth to swipe away the drying blood. Jake grimaced at the sensation of the blood crackling off of his skin, but refrained from commenting on it.</p><p>“What happened, Jacob?” Holt asked finally, breaking the tense, heavy silence.</p><p>Jake didn’t know how to respond.</p><p>Thankfully, he didn’t have to, since Kevin cut in.</p><p>“Not now, Raymond.”</p><p>“I am a police officer, Kevin. It is my job-”</p><p>Kevin drew back from Jake, eyes flashing.</p><p>“Perhaps you should do your job at your office, and not inside our home.”</p><p>Jake drew back from Kevin slightly, watching him warily.</p><p>After a beat of silence, Holt nodded.</p><p>“Very well. I will take my leave. Contact me if needed.” He said brusquely, before practically booking it out of the area.</p><p>“That was rude.” Jake said, uncomfortable. “Look, are you sure I can’t just go-?”</p><p>“No!” Kevin said in unison with Holt, who was seemingly still in earshot.</p><p>Jake waited until Holt had departed up the stairs, before he lowered his voice to Kevin. “Look, I can just go, okay? I’ll go to the hospital, promise” - that was a lie - “and I’ll get out of your guys’ way.”</p><p>Kevin sat back, frown deepening.</p><p>“Certainly not, Peralta. If you are in need of medical attention and Raymond <i>insists</i> that you won’t go to the hospital, then I am the one responsible for taking care of the matter.”</p><p>Jake fell silent at that, biting his tongue as Kevin began to prod at his face again. After another few minutes of it, as Kevin sat back, the dried blood gone and the cuts exposed, Jake mustered the courage to ask another question.</p><p>“Where’d you learn all this stuff, anyway?”</p><p>Kevin shrugged slightly, picking up a sterile stitching kit and opening it with a practiced gloved hand. “My parents were adamant that I be a doctor. I did become one, of course, but not quite the version they had in mind. I still have my skills from all the surgery camps they enlisted me into. It’s simple muscle memory.”</p><p>“Oh.” It was the most Jake had ever heard of Kevin’s personal life, maybe ever.</p><p>Kevin placed one hand near the top of Jake’s head, holding it still.</p><p>In a flash, Jake jerked back, aborting the jab to Kevin’s stomach before it made contact, and nearly knocking over his own chair.</p><p>Kevin drew back as well, his hands raised in a placating manner, threaded stitching needle in one hand.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry.” Jake said quickly, pulling his hands into himself, trying to make himself appear nonthreatening, appeasing.</p><p>Kevin blinked down at Jake, his face twitching again - it was the same expression as before, but it too flickered by too fast for Jake to piece it out.</p><p>“It’s alright, Jake.” Kevin said finally, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to stitch you up, okay?”</p><p>“Cool, cool, cool,” Jake muttered, forcing his muscles to detense and his hands to lower once more.</p><p>Kevin still hadn’t moved.</p><p>“Go ahead.” Jake said finally, realizing that he had been, once again, waiting for permission.</p><p>Kevin did.</p><p>Jake’s fingers tapped on the table, antsy as Kevin’s hands continued to be firm but gentle, stitching up one of the cuts at the edge of his hairline with precision, other hand holding his head still.</p><p>“Sorry.” Jake repeated again, eyes flicking to Kevin’s concentrated face.</p><p>Kevin’s focus never broke. “It’s not your fault, Jake.” He said simply.</p><p>Jake resisted the urge to throw on a campy smile at the words that seemed to dig under his skin, not wanting to pull on his stitches.</p><p>“Like I said, alcohol. Makes a mess out of anyone.” Jake said tightly, fingers continuing to tap away.</p><p>Kevin made a noncommittal noise, tying off the stitching for the first cut and moving to the second.</p><p>Jake gripped the table. Even with the numbing stuff Kevin had put on it, he could still feel the pressure of the needle - it was objectively off-putting, even if it was painless.</p><p>Kevin made another sound in his throat, before pulling back abruptly.</p><p>“There’s a piece of glass in this one.” His voice sounded... off.</p><p>“Oh.” Shit, Jake forgot about that possibility.</p><p>“Hold still.” Kevin said, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Jake held carefully still, letting Kevin pull out the shard of glass.</p><p>Kevin placed the shard onto the table with a clink, and his eyes seemed to linger on it for a moment.</p><p>Jake swallowed hard. It was curved, tinted green, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was - a beer bottle.</p><p>Still, Kevin didn’t comment on it, instead simply tilting Jake’s head down so he could check for other shards that may be hidden.</p><p>Jake stared at his own hands - they were still blood covered - and he could see the edge of a cut present, as well as defensive bruising forming on his forearms, which he surreptitiously concealed with a tug on his shirtsleeves.</p><p>Kevin carefully removed a few more pieces of the bottle, remaining silent throughout the entire thing. When he decided he had found all the pieces there were, he let go of Jake’s head, allowing him to look back up.</p><p>Kevin’s face was completely stone, without a modicum of emotion present. Kevin was nowhere near as open as Jake was, but this seemed to exceed even Holt’s normal levels of unemotionality.</p><p>Jake found it offputting, even as it was simultaneously relieving - Kevin wasn’t angry, anymore, but he wasn’t really anything. Or so it appeared, anyway.</p><p>With the glass moved from Jake’s head to the wooden table, Kevin continued his stitching.</p><p>"Why're you mad at Holt?" Jake asked suddenly.</p><p>Kevin sighed. "I'm not, I just... get frustrated with his stubbornness at times. It's not your concern."</p><p>The pair sat in silence for a bit, Kevin not speaking and Jake not quite having the guts to say anything more. Kevin moved from cut to cut with precision, before finally sitting back and surveying his handiwork.</p><p>“That’s all of them that I can see. Do you have any other injuries?”</p><p>Jake hesitated.</p><p>“Nope.” He said, but it had been a second too late, and Kevin’s blank expression shifted as he raised an eyebrow, skeptical.</p><p>With a grimaced smile, Jake pulled up the edge of his left sleeve, revealing the slender cuts that ran up the back of his forearm, complete with bits of glass poking just out of the skin.</p><p>Kevin sucked in a breath, blinking at it for a moment.</p><p>“Well, then, I suppose we’ll need more antiseptic.” Was all he finally said.</p><p>Jake placed his arm down onto the table between them, palm down, as Kevin began the process once more, carefully wiping away the blood and putting on the antiseptic, then getting out the tweezers, which he used to pick out the little pieces of glass.</p><p>Thankfully, the cut wasn’t deep, but unfortunately that meant the shards were all splinters, small enough that Kevin had to go over the cut several times, checking and rechecking that he had gotten all of the pieces, often finding hair-thin fragments embedded there. When he seemed satisfied with the glass pile beside him, Kevin opted for a few butterfly bandages, as opposed to more stitches.</p><p>Kevin applied them, and then packed the kit back up, before peeling off his gloves and using them to scoop up all of the bloody bits of glass from the table and into a small trash can to the side of their normal trash can.</p><p>Jake inspected his arm, surprised at how pristine it looked. It still stung quite a bit, but it looked as if it had been done by professionals, rather than his boss's husband.</p><p>“Thanks.” Jake said quietly, covering it back up with his sleeve.</p><p>“Of course.” Kevin replied, now scrubbing down the table with a clinical air.</p><p>“Sorry, I can help-?” Jake began, but Kevin shook his head.</p><p>“No, that’s quite all right. I’ve got it.”</p><p>“Okay.” Jake said dumbly, watching as Kevin erased all signs anything had ever occurred in the room to begin with.</p><p>When Kevin finished, he remained standing.</p><p>“Will you require guest pajamas and a guest toothbrush?” He asked simply.</p><p>“Oh.” Jake blinked. “Um… no?”</p><p>At Kevin’s impassive expression, Jake doubled down. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m going to… head hom…” Jake trailed off, frowning. He couldn’t go home. Not right now.</p><p>“It would be poor manners to allow you to… presumably <i>walk</i> back to your apartment at 2:00 in the morning. Please, allow me to show you to a guest room.”</p><p>“Oh, uh, thanks. But…”</p><p>“Jake,” Kevin looked him dead in the eye, “Can you honestly tell me you <i>want</i> to go home at this moment?”</p><p>Jake’s words died in his throat. Finally, all he squeaked out was, “Dad’s in my house.”</p><p>Kevin’s face twitched again, and Jake began to get the feeling the expression was something akin to rage.</p><p>“Come with me.” Kevin said kindly, leading Jake upstairs and into their guest bedroom, complete with lots of beige and a surprisingly pretty painting of a flower as decoration on the wall. “Do you require anything at this time?” Kevin asked, standing just inside the doorway as Jake awkwardly hovered inside the room.</p><p>“No, no, I’m fine.” Jake said, waving his hand dismissively. “You should get some sleep."</p><p>“Yes, I should.” Kevin said, checking the clock again. “I will be taking my leave. Goodnight, Jake.”</p><p>“Night, Kevin.” Jake said with an awkward, soft smile, as Kevin departed, closing the door after him.</p><p>Jake turned to face the room, slipping off his shoes and not even bothering to change into the pajamas, instead just falling into the bed - careful to avoid hitting his freshly stitched face - and resting his head back against the pillows.</p><p>He was so tired.</p><p>Roger was still blackout drunk in his apartment - decidedly not ideal, since that was where Jake <i>lived</i> - but he’d survive.</p><p>Jake was exhausted, and his eyelids seemed to weigh a million pounds, slipping closed within a minute of him entering the room to begin with.</p><p>He didn’t want to think about life when he woke up tomorrow… or, well, later that morning. For now, he just needed to rest.</p><p>So Jake did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><i>Total Requests</i>: I'd love to see more Kevin and Jake interaction! Possibly one involving Roger Peralta's A+ Parenting™? <i>and</i> After that Dad!Kevin story I *need* a story with Kevin and Holt protecting Jake somehow, or the emotional angst of seeing him get hurt protecting them. Please I need my found  father feels!! (Only if you have time of course, I love your writing!)</p><p>requests are now open, as of 4/13! Thanks for your patience :D</p><p>edit: requests can be made to my tumblr (same username), anon or not &lt;3 i also accept requests made in ao3 comments, but pls use the tumblr option if possible, since it's easier to keep track of :D<br/>edit-edit: i won't reply to ao3 comments with requests (until the request is done) because that way i can still find them/keep track in my inbox :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kevin was standing in their kitchen, pouring precisely measured cups of grounds into the coffee maker and turning it on. That completed, he provided Cheddar with his necessary kibble and water, who was waiting patiently at his feet.</p><p>It was a Saturday morning, so he was dressed in casual attire - slacks instead of a suit - and had slept in to 7:30.</p><p>Raymond was standing in the kitchen as well, toasting bread.</p><p>Truly, that Detective Boyle had taught his husband a fair bit, considering he was now able to put in such effort to cooking. Kevin had resigned himself to being the one who cooked in their partnership, and the occasional assist from Raymond was a pleasant surprise.</p><p>The pair listened to the quiet sound of the coffee beginning to drip into the pot in pleasant silence, as Cheddar’s collar jingled against his bowl.</p><p>Finally, Raymond spoke. “Kevin, I am concerned about Peralta.”</p><p>“As am I.” Kevin admitted, shifting to turn and face his husband.</p><p>“I owe you gratitude for agreeing to administer medical aid to him in our home.” Raymond’s tone conveyed the subtextual issue.</p><p>Kevin nodded slightly. “Of course.”</p><p>At Raymond’s expression, Kevin acquiesced.</p><p>“I will freely admit I was not eager to turn our home into a police officer’s medical facility, <i>again</i>, as indicated by previous discussions. However, Peralta fell under the exception section of that rule.”</p><p>“He earned that place for you?” Holt asked, surprise etched into the corners of his eyes.</p><p>Kevin didn’t respond, head turning to the doorway as another pair of footsteps approached.</p><p>Holt quickly shifted from his more relaxed stance, the one he only ever really had around Kevin, into his fully formal police captain demeanor.</p><p>Kevin freely admitted that the stoicism was quite an attractive feature of his husband,as he too straightened his posture - having allowed himself a two degree slump beforehand.</p><p>Jake walked into the occupied kitchen, hands awkwardly fumbling in an attempt to straighten his irrevocably wrinkled shirt.</p><p>Kevin’s eye twitched at the sight of their guest.</p><p>Jake’s face had shown signs of the beginning of bruising the night before - or, rather, earlier that morning - but the redness was turning into splotches of purple. He could see it practically darkening before his eyes, and Kevin found he did not care for that one bit. The cut visible on his upper forehead was pristine - naturally, of course, since Kevin had been the one to do it, nothing less than perfection was adequate - but still surrounded by painful-looking swelling. Kevin glimpsed the edge of bruising on Jake’s wrist, now dark and angry.</p><p>Jake noticed his gaze and shoved his hands into his pocket, grin cracking over his face.</p><p>Kevin noticed for the first time his split lip, which looked to be pulling painfully at Jake’s intentional cheer.</p><p>“Hey-o, Capitan. Kevin.” Jake said brightly.</p><p>Kevin noticed that Jake had his shoes on - and he kept shifting from foot to foot, clearly on edge. He decided to put the young man at ease, offering a third mug - their guest mug - to Jake.</p><p>“Would you care for some coffee?” He asked, as the machine beeped behind him. Perfect timing, as intended.</p><p>Jake’s grin twitched, and he pulled a hand out of his pocket to rub at the back of his neck as he glanced between Kevin, still holding the mug outstretched, and Raymond, who was holding an extra slice of bread, yet untoasted, waiting for Jake’s response.</p><p>“Yeah, sure.” Jake said finally, crossing his arms and leaning against the edge of the doorway.</p><p>With that, Raymond made more toast, and Kevin poured them each a cup of coffee, placing the mugs onto the table in their according spots.</p><p>Holt joined him, placing down the toast and oatmeal - he had clearly gone all out for Jake’s presence - on the table as well. Jake sidled uneasily to sit with them as well, discomfort etched into his every muscle, and took a sip of his coffee, hiding a grimace at its bitterness.</p><p>Holt pushed over the cups of sugar and cream, Jake adding some of each into his coffee. Kevin added some creamer to his own cup as well, watching Jake over the rim of his mug as he took a gulp of the too-hot drink without so much as a blink.</p><p>“I trust your sleep was… adequate, Peralta?” Holt asked finally, sipping from his own mug.</p><p>“Hm?” Jake raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised at being addressed. “Oh, yeah, it was good. Yes. Thanks. For asking.”</p><p>Jake took another hasty gulp of his drink, steadfastly avoiding both of their gazes with a sudden interest in the table’s surface.</p><p>They sat in silence for a bit longer, although it wasn’t the pleasant kind Kevin often enjoyed. Instead, this felt heavy, foreboding.</p><p>Jake’s shoulders were raised up, tensed around his ears, and he kept tapping his mug with twitchy, nervous fingers.</p><p>Kevin considered taking pity on him, and just making polite small talk until they were done here, but then dismissed the notion. He had heavy concern for Peralta, and the one sentence he had uttered the night before - ‘Dad’s in my house’ - had been enough to make Kevin deadset on not allowing harm - or, more harm, he supposed - to befall Jake.</p><p>Jake, who was still a bundle of nerves in front of them.</p><p>Kevin considered how best to go about this. While his instinct was to immediately offer Jake to move in, as of now, and take up residence in their guest room until this blew over - Kevin was mildly disurbed by how quickly Jake had grown on him - he also knew that Jake would most certainly make a run for the proverbial hills if he said as much.</p><p>“Jacob,” Kevin finally opted to say, “Our home is always open to you during these situations.”</p><p>“Oh, um, well.” Sure enough, Jake practically chugged the rest of his coffee, placing the mug onto the table with a shaky thud. “Well, thanks.” he said with a too-wide grin, “For, uh, all of this. But, I should- go… now. Yes. Bye. Sorry to… yeah.” Jake shot to his feet, hastily pushing his chair in as he practically backed away from the pair.</p><p>Kevin could feel Holt about to stand as well, and placed a hand on his shoulder - normally such PDA in front of anyone would be irregular, but he felt that this day warranted such irregularity.</p><p>“Jacob, please, sit.” Kevin said, remaining carefully still.</p><p>Jake shook his head. “Oh, thanks, but, no, I should go. I need to get home-” Kevin spotted a flash of a grimace before Jake hid it behind another grin, “Good coffee, by the way. I just… no reason for me to be here now, right?”</p><p>“You don’t need a reason to be here. You’re welcome in our home.” Holt replied automatically.</p><p>“Oh.” Jake seemed to be at a loss for words, floundering awkwardly as he continued to eye, but no longer edge towards, the door. Finally, he said, “I do need to get back, though.”</p><p>“Not this instant.” Holt argued, but Jake shook his head quickly.</p><p>“No, no, I do have to go.” Jake repeated, his hands tapping on his legs. “Can’t just leave my dad fucking around my house.” He forced a mirthless chuckle, “He might steal my Adderall.”</p><p>Kevin could tell it was a flimsy attempt at humor, but it really just served to raise more concerns than put him at ease. Holt’s mouth twitched in a clear sign of disapproval, although Jake seemed oblivious to it.</p><p>“I see.” Was all Holt said.</p><p>Jake’s shoulders seemed to slump, and his forced grin faded. Kevin was struck by how tired the man seemed to be, how worn down. He looked exhausted, and, for a moment, Kevin was surprised Jake was functioning at all.</p><p>As if sensing Jake’s weariness as well, Cheddar padded over to him, sitting and tilting his head up in a polite request for chin scratches. Obligingly, Jake bent down to give him the desired attention, a small smiling creeping onto his face as Cheddar’s eyes closed and his head nudged further into Jake’s hand.</p><p>“At least let us drive you home.” Kevin offered finally, after deliberating on insisting Jake stay - something which was sure to end in him bolting for it.</p><p>For a moment, Jake looked like he was going to refuse, but Kevin absolutely was not going to budge on this. Jake looked half dead, and Kevin assumed Jake had simply wandered to their home in the dead of night, considering his lack of, well… any other seemingly available mode of transport around.</p><p>Thankfully, Kevin didn’t need to push the matter, since Jake gave in with a “Yeah, thanks. That’d be good,” awkwardly looking up at him from where he was now crouching, scratching behind Cheddar’s ears.</p><p>Kevin donned his coat and put on his shoes, Holt doing the same, as Jake continued to lavish Cheddar with attention. With Jake distracted, Kevin ushered Holt into the next room to have a private conversation. Holt held back for a moment.</p><p>“Look at them, Kevin. I’m savoring the image.” Holt paused. “Okay, now we can discuss matters.”</p><p>Kevin, having already privately savored and recollected the image of Jake and Cheddar - although he was not ready to admit such a softness for the man -, did not need additional time, and the pair quickly ducked into the privacy of their upstairs room.</p><p>“We should do this with speed, as Jacob may use this opportunity to ‘make a break for it’.” Holt said, turning to face Kevin.</p><p>“Peralta’s father - do we have a plan if he’s still there?” Kevin asked quickly, mincing his grammar like an absolute drunkard.</p><p>Holt raised his eyebrows at the clear butchering of linguistics, but chose not to comment on it, seeming to sense Kevin’s urgency.</p><p>“I am a police captain. That is the plan.”</p><p>“Raymond,” Kevin crossed his arms, “Are you sure that you’ll… maintain your temper? Earlier this morning, you were the most upset I’ve seen you since… the incident.”</p><p>Holt stiffened minutely. “I am fully capable of behaving in a respectable manner. Especially around that…” Holt bit back his words, “<i>Man</i> who happens to be Jake’s father. And this is nothing like the incident!” Holt argued, “I am in full control of my emotions.”</p><p>Kevin wasn’t sure if that was entirely true - Holt’s entire posture and inflection made it clear he was deeply distressed. However, Kevin was positive that Jake felt more comfortable around Holt than him - he regretted having sent Holt out of the room the moment he had done so that early morning - and didn’t want to make Jake any more uncomfortable than he already very clearly was. So, with nothing more than an, “Alright, Raymond,” Kevin dropped the issue.</p><p>Besides, Kevin admitted to himself, he had half a mind to simply let Holt have another incident. No sense in decorum when it had to do with… all of this.</p><p>“We should go now.” Holt said finally, “Before Peralta does something on par with his normal behavior.”</p><p>“Something stupid?”</p><p>“Precisely.”</p><p>When the pair re-entered the kitchen, Kevin had half-expected Jake to be gone. Instead, he was exactly where they’d left him, although Cheddar having migrated completely into Jake’s arms. Jake was still smiling, expression soft, and he seemed completely at ease.</p><p>Kevin considered savoring this moment as well, but then Jake glanced up, seeing them. Immediately, his expression turned guilty, and he quickly placed Cheddar onto the ground before straightening up stiffly. As if expecting to be chastised for his moment of weakness.</p><p>Although Kevin was, of course, loath to call showering Cheddar in attention a ‘weakness’.</p><p>He elected to pretend not to notice Jake’s switch in demeanour, instead picking up the car keys from their hook.</p><p>“Shall we?” He asked.</p><p>Jake nodded quickly, following Kevin outside, while Holt locked the door.</p><p>“What is your address?” Holt asked, getting into the shotgun seat while Kevin turned over the engine, and Jake awkwardly perched in the middle of the back section.</p><p>Jake replied, and Kevin felt his eyebrow twitch.</p><p>His concern - which he believed to have finally plateaued - was compounded once more by the fact that the address Jake gave them was quite a ways away - the fact that he had walked that entire distance was most definitely cause for exponential worry.</p><p>Holt didn’t comment on the distance, although the way his lips pursed slightly made it clear what he thought on the matter.</p><p>The three drove in silence - normally, Kevin relished the opportunity to drive silently with Holt, it was one of their favorite activities - but this was decidedly more tense.</p><p>Jake was clearly trying to avoid discussing anything, his bruised face ducked down to stare at the floor of the car. The only sign of activity from him was his tapping on his knees, fingers twitching their way to an incomprehensible rhythm.</p><p>Kevin almost regretted driving - he could have asked Holt to do it instead. Jake felt much more comfortable around him, he knew. It was no secret to Kevin or, frankly, anyone that Jake viewed his husband like a father, and if anyone would be able to put him at ease, it would be Holt.</p><p>Kevin was a bystander. Normally he didn’t mind such an activity, but he was sure that Jake would already be expressing his feelings if it was just him and Holt in the car, as opposed to the three of them.</p><p>Pulling up to the apartment complex, Kevin turned off the engine and made to get out of the car.</p><p>“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’m just going to go to my place. You guys don’t need to come with.” Jake said, quickly getting out of the car.</p><p>“Are you sure, Jacob?” Holt asked, rolling down his window. His voice was tinged with concern - Kevin was unsurprised at how moved Holt was by all of this - and he continued, “We could just make sure everything’s good before we leave.”</p><p>“No, seriously, I’m fine.” Jake said with a tight grin, “It’s good. Thanks, for the ride.”</p><p>“Of course.” Kevin said automatically. “And, Peralta, you know that… you are always welcome in our home. If something like this happens again, you can come to us.”</p><p>“Ha, yeah.” Jake laughed awkwardly, “This isn’t like… a normal thing, or anything. Doesn’t usually happen. Or anything.”</p><p>Kevin eyed Jake’s demeanour, and offered, “I could stay in the car, if you and Raymond would like to go to your apartment.”</p><p>Jake twitched, a guilty look crossing over his face. “It’s… nothing’s wrong with you, Kevin. I just, my place is a mess, is all.”</p><p>“Okay.” Kevin didn’t push the matter, choosing to let Jake get away with his avoidant response. “It’s just that we want to make sure you’re safe.”</p><p>Jake blinked, pausing for a moment before saying, “Okay, just… yeah. Come on, then.”</p><p>Holt gave Kevin a slight look of approval at having convinced Jake - both of them were clearly eager to verify Jake’s safety - before stepping out of the car.</p><p>Kevin dithered, unsure if he was welcome, or if this was an opportunity for Jake and Holt to discuss matters in private, but then Jake rapped on his window with an only-slightly forced grin.</p><p>“C’mon, Kev! I wanna take a nap.”</p><p>Kevin hid his mixed feelings of relief and hope at Jake’s perceived comfort around him with a raised eyebrow at the statement, exiting the car as well. The three traipsed up the stairs to Jake’s apartment, Jake unlocking and opening the door with a flourish.</p><p>The place was, as Jake referred to it, a mess. There were lots of random items scattered on the coffee table, and a few dirty dishes in the skin, but what caught Kevin’s eye was the beer bottles scattered across the floor.</p><p>Despite Jake’s flaws - most of them stemming from his childishness - Kevin didn’t peg him as a drinker.</p><p>That suspicion was further proven correct as Jake grimaced at the sight of them, muttering something under his breath before he walked further into his apartment.</p><p>Kevin and Holt followed after him - Kevin noticing that Holt was scouting the room, as if checking for something. Or, more aptly, someone.</p><p>Sure enough, Jake rolled his eyes as he walked to the couch, nudging the figure sprawled out onto it.</p><p>“Dad.” He said, “Dad, wake up.”</p><p>The figure - now identified as Roger Peralta - groaned, shifting but not getting up.</p><p>Jake turned to them with a bemused, awkward smile.</p><p>“Well, looks like I’ve got it from here. You guys can go, now.”</p><p>“Not a chance.” Holt said, walking up to stand beside Jake’s left side.</p><p>“Captain!” He barked, suddenly - Jake practically jumped out of his skin at Holt raising his voice, and Kevin had to admit he was more than slightly taken aback by the action.</p><p>Roger groaned again, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, before fumbling for his glasses, which were perched precariously on top of a mess on the end table.</p><p>“Clarissa, is that you?” Roger asked, slowly putting his glasses onto his face.</p><p>“Heh, he called you Clarissa.” Jake said, flashing a too-wide smirk in Holt’s direction, even as he crossed his arms in an attempt to conceal his discomfort.</p><p>“Jake?” Roger blinked up at him, “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“This is my apartment.” Jake replied curtly, unable to fully contain his irritation. “Which <i>you</i> barged into.”</p><p>Roger shrugged, getting to his feet and stretching. “I see.”</p><p>“No, you don’t.” Jake began, voice sharp, but then Roger cut him off with a dismissive hand wave.</p><p>“I got it, I got it, Jake. Call ahead next time, I know the drill.”</p><p>“Or don’t show up at all?” Jake cut in.</p><p>Roger turned, looking around the apartment.</p><p>“What happened to your place?” He asked.</p><p>Kevin bristled at the words, but Roger’s voice sounded genuinely confused.</p><p>Of course, it was immediately followed up by a, “It looks like shit.”</p><p>Jake chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, before finally replying, “Gee, thanks, dad.”</p><p>Kevin noted that Jake avoided answering the question. Roger didn’t seem to care about the lack of an answer either, instead just flashing a bright grin - it was oddly similar to Jake’s, and nearly as disarming. Kevin couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Jake learned it from.</p><p>“You should go, now.” Jake said firmly.</p><p>“You’re right, you’re right.” Roger nodded. There was a pause, where Jake’s shoulders relaxed slightly, before Roger faced Holt and Kevin. “You two can leave.”</p><p>Holt opened his mouth to object, but Kevin beat him to the punch.</p><p>“That’s not going to happen.” He said curtly, half-stepping forward so he was to Jake’s right, the two of them subtly flanking him on either side.</p><p>Roger eyed Kevin for a moment, grin faltering slightly.</p><p>“And who, exactly, are you?”</p><p>“Professor Kevin Cozner, PhD.” Kevin said smoothly, ignoring the way Jake seemed to glance at him briefly, keeping his gaze fixed cooly on Roger. “I believe you’ve already met my husband, Captain Raymond Holt of the 99th precinct.”</p><p>Roger tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement of the statement.</p><p>Holt, clearly displaying his temper, did not nod back.</p><p>If Kevin wasn’t careful, Holt was going to cause a kerfuffle. </p><p>“Dad, I’m serious.” Jake said, “You need to leave.”</p><p>Roger didn’t protest, instead just picking up his jacket off the floor and dusting it off, before putting it back on. However, as he began to make his way to the door, he stopped, turning back around to face the three.</p><p>“I flew out here to see you, Jake. Least you could do is talk to me.”</p><p>“I didn’t ask for you to come.” Jake muttered under his breath. Evidently not quietly enough, since Roger cocked his head.</p><p>“Oh, so I’m not welcome here, but those two are?” He jerked his chin towards Holt and Kevin, “Think they’re better than your old man?”</p><p>“That’s not what this is about.” Jake said, muscle in his jaw flexing.</p><p>“Sure seems like it.” Roger said, stepping towards them.</p><p>Kevin noticed Jake take a small step back, away from Roger. And that was enough to make Kevin decide, no, actually, fuck that, <i>he</i> was going to cause a kerfuffle then and there.</p><p>“Mr. Peralta,” He began, voice sharp enough to cut through steel - purposefully disregarding the man’s title as he did so, “The inhabitant of this apartment has asked you to leave. I will now <i>insist</i> you do so.” Kevin didn’t move from Jake’s side, but his expression conveyed his absolute desire to approach Roger on the matter.</p><p>“You’re not his dad.” Roger said, “<i>I</i> am. And I know what’s best-”</p><p>“I find that incredibly hard to believe.” Holt interrupted hotly, also holding his place beside Jake. “Given your failure to even recognize the obvious injuries he has suffered.”</p><p>“Hm?” Roger asks, seeming to actually look at Jake for the first time since this conversation started. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in Jake’s appearance.</p><p>“Damn, Jake, what happened to your face?” He asked.</p><p>Jake didn’t reply - gaze once again fixed to the floor, arms crossed over each other. It seemed as if he was trying to draw back into himself.</p><p>Kevin’s eyebrows practically shot to his hairline, and one hand came to rest on Jake’s shoulder comfortingly, even as his glare bored into Roger’s oblivious face.</p><p>“You did, you absolute buffoon.” Kevin snapped, ignoring Holt’s slight intake of breath at the words, “Now. Get. <i>Out.</i>”</p><p>Roger’s eyes flitted to Kevin, but was unable to hold his stare, and turned instead to appraise Jake’s appearance once more, expression turning sour.</p><p>“That doesn’t sound like me.” Roger said deliberately, carefully watching Jake, expectant.</p><p>Jake’s jaw clenched, eyes still fixed down onto the floor, his shoulders practically to his ears. He didn’t speak, and Roger didn’t seem to take too kindly to it.</p><p>“Honestly, Jake,” Roger said irritably, “You think this is some sort of game? I-”</p><p>“I don’t care what you think.” Holt spoke up this time. “You assaulted a police officer, and if you don’t get out I <i>will</i> arrest you for it.”</p><p>Roger began to protest, but a glare from Holt quickly silenced him.</p><p>“Whatever. I was going to leave anyway. Flights to take care of, and all that.” He finally said, wrenching the door open. Just when Kevin thought the man would finally leave, Roger added, “And, Jake, I’m your dad. Can’t replace that. Bye, son.”</p><p>Without waiting for Jake to reply with a farewell - although, judging by his drawn in demeanor, wasn’t likely to happen - Roger left, closing the door, hard, after him.</p><p>“Jacob, are you alright?” Kevin asked, hand still resting on Jake’s shoulder.</p><p>Jake nodded jerkily, before tearing his eyes away from the ground to look up at Kevin.</p><p>The expression on Jake’s face stunned Kevin slightly, sending a sharp jab of concern into him. His face just looked so sad, and his eyes so despaired. Another jolt, this time one of anger, coursed through Kevin at the thought that Roger had been able to cause Jake such distress so cavalierly, without so much as a care for his own son.</p><p>Kevin swallowed, then said, “Why don’t we sit down, okay?”</p><p>Jake nodded again, awkwardly sitting down on the couch. Kevin followed suit, keeping his hand on Jake - hopefully it put him at ease, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Kevin went to draw his hand away, but Jake’s eyes flickered with what seemed to be desperation, and Kevin left it in place.</p><p>Holt, meanwhile, had opted to clean up the mess, picking up the beer bottles and putting them into a bin with practiced efficiency.</p><p>Kevin enjoyed the view - what, they were married - while Jake slowly relaxed next to him, muscles untensing under Kevin’s grip.</p><p>When Holt finished disposing of the evidence that Roger had been there, he sat down on the opposite side of Jake, allowing his posture to slump slightly.</p><p>Kevin supposed they were both being casual, today.</p><p>They sat in silence for a bit - although this time felt much more comfortable, as opposed to their earlier car ride - until Jake finally spoke.</p><p>“Thanks. Um, for… that.”</p><p>“Of course.” Holt replied immediately, “You… matter…. to us.”</p><p>Kevin nodded in agreement.</p><p>Jake chuckled awkwardly. ‘That’s lame.” He said, voice cracking.</p><p>“Indeed.” Kevin shrugged. “Yet here we are.”</p><p>“Can you guys stay?” Jake asked suddenly. “Just… for a little while. In case he comes back.”</p><p>And they did.</p><p>Roger didn’t return.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>roger: breathes<br/>kevin &amp; holt: so you have chosen... death</p><p>protective dad mode: activated</p><p>comments r exciting! :D</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><i>Total Requests</i>: I'd love to see more Kevin and Jake interaction! Possibly one involving Roger Peralta's A+ Parenting™? <i>and</i> After that Dad!Kevin story I *need* a story with Kevin and Holt protecting Jake somehow, or the emotional angst of seeing him get hurt protecting them. Please I need my found  father feels!! (Only if you have time of course, I love your writing!)</p><p>requests are now open, as of 4/13! Thanks for your patience :D</p><p>edit: requests can be made to my tumblr (same username), anon or not &lt;3 i also accept requests made in ao3 comments, but pls use the tumblr option if possible, since it's easier to keep track of :D<br/>edit-edit: i won't reply to ao3 comments with requests (until the request is done) because that way i can still find them/keep track in my inbox :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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